The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1)

Chloe extricated herself from the knot of people helping Trainor onto the stretcher. Her boss made an attempt to stand up on his own, but his knees gave way and the orderlies barely caught him before he hit the floor. “Big guy,” one of them noted as they wrestled him onto the wheeled bed.

 

As they wheeled him toward the door, Chloe started to take her melting ice pack to the kitchen.

 

“Chloe,” Trainor said. “Come with me. Feels better.”

 

“What?” Chloe squawked. She looked at the doctor, who was following the gurney. “I’m not a nurse.”

 

“That’s not a problem,” Cavill said. “I’ll be with him.” He frowned suddenly. “Have you had a flu shot?”

 

“Yes.” Chloe always got the shot, because she didn’t want to endanger Grandmillie’s health by passing on germs. “What difference does that make?”

 

“I don’t want to have to worry about you catching what Nathan has.”

 

She shouldn’t have been so honest. “Am I even allowed to ride in the ambulance?” She was grasping at straws.

 

The doctor shrugged. “It’s a private ambulance. You can do anything Nathan wants you to.”

 

“Chloe.” Now Trainor sounded like a CEO as his voice crackled with command.

 

“Humor him,” Cavill said.

 

Chloe got a grip on the towel-wrapped pack and trailed after them, making a brief stop at her desk to grab her handbag from the drawer. As they passed Roberta, Chloe cast a pleading glance at the human resources director. Roberta misinterpreted it, saying, “I’ll get Priscilla to cancel the appointments.”

 

Then she was closed into the executive elevator, whooshing down to the waiting ambulance.

 

 

 

 

 

As the big vehicle lurched through the streets of New York, Chloe sat wedged in on one side of Trainor’s stretcher while Cavill sat on the other. Despite the jarring of potholes, her boss had fallen into a fitful sleep.

 

She had discarded the melted ice pack and was sitting with her hands twisted together on her lap, staring out the back window and wondering where they were going.

 

Her head jerked around as the doctor spoke. “I don’t believe I’ve met you before. Ben Cavill.” He held out his hand.

 

“Chloe Russell,” she said, putting her hand in his. “I’m Mr. Trainor’s temporary assistant. Janice has the flu.”

 

“Who doesn’t these days?” the doctor said. His grip was firm and dry, but his eyes were assessing. Chloe felt like a germ under a microscope. “How long have you been with him?”

 

“I was assigned yesterday.” Since the doctor had started the conversation, she decided she could ask. “Is he going to be all right? He’s so hot.”

 

The doctor’s lips twitched slightly, and Chloe noticed her unintentional double entendre. She flushed but decided to ignore it.

 

“He’s so rarely ill that I don’t know if he’s prone to high fevers, but I suspect that it’s just his body’s normal reaction to the flu. Of course, I’ll keep a close eye on him to make sure it’s not pneumonia or something more sinister.”

 

“Have you been his doctor long?” Chloe asked.

 

“Since I graduated from medical school,” Cavill said. “We were friends as kids, so I keep a close eye on more than just his physical health.”

 

It sounded as though he was trying to send her some kind of warning, but she couldn’t figure out why he would feel the need to. In fact, she felt better knowing Trainor had a friend watching over him during his illness. “He’s lucky to have you.”

 

Cavill’s eyebrows rose and he looked taken aback. “I’m not sure he’d agree at the moment.”

 

“Where are we going?” Chloe asked after a moment of silence.

 

“To Nathan’s home on the West Side.” Cavill continued to watch her closely.

 

To avoid his scrutiny, she looked down at the man on the stretcher. He still had that hectic flush in his cheeks but he had stopped tossing and turning as though every inch of his body hurt.

 

The ambulance swerved over to the curb. The orderlies leaped out and swiftly unloaded the stretcher. Cavill helped her out of the back of the vehicle and started to lead the cavalcade toward the front door of a modern high-rise building sheathed in granite.

 

“I’ll just catch a cab back to the office,” Chloe said. She was sure Trainor Electronics would foot the bill.

 

“I’d rather you stayed,” Cavill said. “In his delirium, he seems to have fixated on you as a caretaker.”

 

The doctor didn’t sound particularly happy about having her involved, but then Chloe wasn’t either. This was the strangest situation she’d ever found herself in.

 

 

 

 

 

As she followed the stretcher out of the elevator doors on the level marked P-2, Chloe gawked at the huge bronze-and-crystal chandelier hanging at nearly eye level with the gallery they walked onto. A beautifully carved wooden balustrade curled around three sides of the space before it plunged downward along a grand staircase, leading to an exquisite marble mosaic floor below. Cavill walked briskly toward a wide hallway, carpeted with a gold-and-blue Oriental runner, and Chloe had to jog to catch up.

 

The rich really were different.

 

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